One moment in time
by Belladonna-Isabella
Summary: In the aftermath of the events in the X3 movie Erik Lensherr, no longer Magneto, thinks back to everything that has happened until something unexpected happens. Warnings:Slash,Charles/Erik,AU *Spoilers for First Class and the other X-men movies*
1. Erik

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, this is purely for fun.

**Warnings:** AU, slash(but mild).

**A/N:**I don't wish to reveal much about the plot but I can tell you it links the X-men Last stand movie with the First class. I have no other knowledge of X-men aside the movies and the one episode I happened to see when I was little and all I remember from it is that it featured the phoenix so I am taking liberties. Please forgive any OCC that may occur and please point it out, my fear of it almost made me unwilling to post this.

The inspiration behind this fic is an errant thought expressed by my brother that the Origin movies where set in different AU from each other and the other movies because otherwise some things could not be explained. So I am working with that in mind. I have planned for 2 parts at least and will expand but it depends largely on the feedback.

**Beta-ed **by** RainingSkittles**

_'thoughts'_

"speech"

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><p><em>Chance is a word void of sense; nothing can exist without a cause. - Voltaire<em>

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><p><strong>.<br>**

**oOo part 1 oOo**

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The park was a place of recollection. The small tables with the chessboards were always inviting. People would lose themselves in the game and conversation would be scarce but through the game another sort of communication would occur. Erik would come there, even before the recent events, seeking solitude and searching for something that has now unreachable.

There were few memories of his past that weren't filled with violence and suffering. One of them was the moments he spent with Charles, over another chess set. He remembered them with fondness and a certain longing. There were moments where they would talk about a variety of things or argue about other things. There would be moments where the silence would reign, either because they were focused on the game or they simply felt at ease to sit opposite each other without the need to exchange words. Never would such a silence be uncomfortable between them, it always held a deeper meaning, a sensation that even if they didn't speak, there was still a connection, binding them together. That tie had formed from their first meeting and had continued to strengthen throughout their lives, whether they were together or on opposite sides.

"We are brothers you and I," he remembered saying to Charles one day.

He was wrong. They were so much more than that, always. Two sides of the same coin, co-dependent. And now Charles was dead and Erik could feel the absence of that connection, like a void that threatened to pull him in if he contemplated on its existence for long. The thought of what had transpired was a particularly difficult one. Even if Erik was never one to shy away from the reality brought about as a result of his actions and choices he had to admit that this was one particularly difficult truth to bear. He had played an integral part in Charles's demise. That was one thing he was not capable to come to terms with, certainly not now that the grief was so near, but he suspected, not ever. He should never have provoked Jea- no Phoenix as he did. He was in part responsible for Charles's death.

Throughout his life, from the moment he first met the telepath, only one persistent need existed, unchanged by time and by everything else. His need to protect Charles. Even when he had left his side, unable to walk the same road that Charles was so invested in, there never was a moment when he had thought of hurting Charles. Deep in his mind there was the hope that once everything had settled, he would been able to return to Charles's side. That was a hope he had held on to even as the years passed.

The war had come. As he had foreseen and as he had planned, because Magneto had never believed that peaceful cohabitation would occur. He had not feared war, having lived through one already. He had thought however that the day after would be more gratifying. It wasn't. The end found them broken, beyond repair. He was Magneto no longer. Charles was dead and Erik had lost everything.

A tear glided down his cheek as he was overwhelmed by thoughts of broken dreams and hopes.

The tragedy of it all was that he had once before felt such pain and despair that could have broken him, but it didn't. He had found a goal, a reason to keep going. Revenge had been his motivation for many years and when that had been accomplished, he had aspired to help people like him, he had found Charles and in him he had found hope.

"You are not alone."

Charles had told him those four simple words when they had met and they had opened his eyes to new possibilities. For the first time in his adult life Erik had been able to aspire to something other than retribution. Because Charles had been his light. He had given him back the ability to dream, to imagine and wish for a future. If happiness was something real and not an abstract notion, he was certain his depended on the other man who never gave up on him. Now...there was nothing. He was a shell of his former self. He was alone.

A few sobs escape his lips and he brings his hand to his mouth in an effort to contain them. It is too late, sobs wreck his body as the dam brakes and all his thoughts and feelings materialize in the form of tears, falling freely from his eyes.

With his free hand he lashes out and scatters all the pieces off the chessboard he has set to recreate one of the games he and Charles had once played.

That causes surprised looks by the few people, distracting them from their own games.

He doesn't care.

His mind is assaulted by images as he squeezes his eyes shut in an effort to contain his tears.

The meeting...their first handshake...their first kiss...their first night together...the mornings they woke up together...the school...the kids...their last kiss as they parted ways. Charles eyes were clouded with sadness but also with understanding. He had never blamed him for not seeing things his way. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, he always believed in people and he always held on to hope. He remembers the good days and how radiant Charles's smile was.

A flash and then he finds himself staring at a site of disaster, everything around him come apart but his eyes cannot leave one pair of blue eyes. Charles's face is almost peaceful as his form disintegrates before his very eyes. He is being ripped apart, in front of Erik's terrified eyes and the metal-bender is unable to do anything but watch as another person he loves is killed in front of him. Just like his mother.

He doesn't blame Jean, she was a victim as well, of a power perhaps too great for her to handle. In retrospect he has no choice but to accept that Charles may have been right. No, Jean is not responsible. If anyone is at fault it is Erik himself. Everyone around him have died violent deaths and it is hard not to wonder if his presence was the catalyst. What if he was his presence in their lives that had caused it? What if something about his abilities somehow derailed so many fates, so many lives? He realizes how ridiculous such a thought is, Charles would have gave him his unique disapproving look just for thinking it, he is certain. Still, he can't help but question why he is still here.

_'Why am I still alive?'_

Out of nowhere, or perhaps it feels like that because he had been so wrapped in himself, Erik feels a soft sensation envelop his shoulders as if someone leans down on his back to embrace him. He gasps as he is assaulted by powerful feelings of regret, pain and misery but they are not his. Erik feels as if he is caught within a whirlwind, being tossed all over the place and pulled downwards towards the center. The air has left his lungs and the sensation of drowning becomes overwhelming.

A jumbled thought, not his own, comes to the surface halting his movement, suspending them in mid air, nothing but darkness all around.

_'I am sorry.'_

_'Cha-'_

The question dies on his lips as he falls.

Darkness wraps around him and he knows no more.

**.**

**oOo End part 1 oOo**

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><p><strong>Reviews are the air I breathe! Any questions or opinions welcome.<strong>


	2. A meeting of the minds

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay but I was caught up writing an other story in this fandom, "Healing process", it was a spontaneous thing... Anyway, this chapter was the most difficult thing I ever had to write. I don't know why exactly but I couldn't get it to have the feel I wanted it to. After a long struggle, I think I have gotten as close to what I wanted as I could. You will notice that I have a slight obsession with a certain beach scene, as well as making Erik suffer. The latter comes naturally to me but it is because I love him so much.

Many thanks to my wonderful beta **Raining Skittles.**

**This is Charles/Erik. Mild, but slash!**

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**~One moment in time part 2~**

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The moment he regained consciousness, Erik could almost feel himself float. Aware of everything that was going on around him but unable to react in any way. The feeling of displacement was overwhelming him. His mind filled with sensations that were so jumbled that he couldn't make sense of them.

He was felling more like a disembodied spirit than anything else, trapped in a whirlwind of emotions, sensations and memories. Lost between the past and the present. Drifting from awareness to oblivion.

Images floated his mind, too quickly to understand them all. There was a beach, illuminated by the afternoon sun. People were on the beach, he could hear them. There were metallic debris all around, he could feel them. There was something familiar about all this, but Erik couldn't remember.

He felt a sudden pool and the next moment he felt like he could move. He felt like he had a body once again. Time, that up until then had seemed frozen, started moving again. Suddenly, a million things were happening at once. He felt himself use his magnetic powers, guiding missiles to some ships just off the coast. He did it almost instinctively, as if he were programmed to do it, or as if he had already decided to do it. There was someone lying nearby on the sand. A group of people were standing behind him near some large chunks of metal. But most importantly, he was now aware that he was no longer in his own body.

Lifting up his left hand, he saw none of the signs that old age had brought. All around him time seemed to slow down again. He carefully inspected the white flesh, no wrinkles or spots marred this hand, only some fresh scrapes. It was not his body and yet it felt very familiar, it was akin to his own in ways he couldn't express. It was more a sensation than anything else but this felt like a younger version of his own body. There were pains, and aches he could feel but they were not the ones associated with getting older. This pain was sharp, indicating injuries.

As he tried to make sense of it all, he felt a wave of vertigo. Time seemed to slow down and accelerate without consistency. One moment he was lost in his thoughts, the next he was overwhelmed by everything happening all around him. The feeling of disconnection between his mind and his physical existence made him nauseous. He couldn't find the words to describe the exact sensation but it almost felt like he was drowning from the inside. His pulse had accelerated, his heart pumping blood rapidly. His breathing was labored, as if his lungs were filling with fluid. Then, time resumed once again, moving in his normal rhythm and once again knocking him off balance. It was in that moment that he lost control of his powers.

Just for a second, but it was enough. The missiles started falling from the sky. Explosions adorned the cloudless sky. Some fell harmlessly into the sea. But none of them reached the ships.

At the same time, Erik felt a burning pain, start just below his ribcage and radiate all across his left side. A warm liquid begun to spread underneath his suit. He knew this pain. He had been shot. He had felt every second as the metal had embed itself deep inside his body. Because now it certainly felt like his body.

Weakness overtook him. His pulse was forceful but slower. A symptom of blood loss. His already battered body couldn't deal with the new injury. His legs buckled. As he fell, he just had enough energy to turn his head a little to the left, from the direction the bullet had come. There, he saw himself mirrored inside two brown eyes, wide from the surprise. He vaguely remembered those eyes...Moira.

Once again at the edge of consciousness he could hear someone screaming his name. A voice he knew well. He felt someone pulling him slightly upwards. Now his head was resting on something soft. A gloved hand touched his cheek, shaking slightly.

With great effort Erik opened his eyes. Oh how he had missed those eyes the color of the sky. If he could have chosen the way he would die, this is how he would have wanted it.

He felt something being removed from his head. The helmet.

Then, a wave of worry washed over him.

_Erik! Erik, stay with me._

Charles's voice, younger but still his voice.

This was certainly a dream. But despite the pain it was certainly a good dream.

He had preserved this memories of Charles in the deepest recesses of his heart. The time when Charles was much more idealistic and more innocent. It was before they had grown apart, when they were still friends and not reluctant enemies, fighting each other.

Charles begged him to stay conscious and Erik wanted nothing more.

He was not yet ready for this dream to end.

But his vision was failing.

Charles was becoming more and more a blurry image. Soon he would disappear all together.

_Let go._

A voice whispered.

_Charles?_

Erik asked in a haze.

No, it wasn't him, he realized.

His eyes were closing, the dark on the edge of his sight was advancing. He could no longer see Charles. He felt a strong tug in his stomach just before his eyes closed shut.

**.**

**oOo**

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Darkness was everywhere.

Erik couldn't tell if he was in a room or a corridor, or somewhere where there were no walls. There was just darkness and he.

It was too calm to be hell and yet too lonely not too. Having never been particularly religious, he had never really thought about it before, about how hell would look like. He only knew that he would certainly end up there.

"This is not hell," a female voice whispered.

A form begun to take shape in front of him.

Long red hair, pale skin, deep brown eyes...

"Jean," Erik's voice was a whisper laced with surprise.

"That is not entirely accurate," she said, "but it is not entirely false either."

At that, the metalbender took a deep breath, if something like that existed here and he looked at her more attentively. She looked exactly as the last time he had seen her, even wearing the same red dress.

"Phoenix," he concluded.

The young woman shook her head, "That is not entirely accurate either but it is closer to the truth."

To say Erik was confused was an understatement, but he decided to start with the simpler questions.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere between death and life. The point that some refer to as limbo."

"You are dead," not a question, a statement.

"Yes and in a way, so are you."

"What do you mean?"

"When I died, I didn't disappear as I should. A part of me remained behind. You see, Erik, I had a wish, or you could call it regret. So many things happened that I caused, so many people died. This power took away from me everything, before forcing the man that loved me to kill me. It took everything from me."

Tears were running down her face as she spoke, she made no move to wipe them.

Erik realized she wanted him to see this, to see her pain but he didn't know why. He certainly could empathize, regret was his companion too. Both he and Jean had caused the demise of their loved ones. Yes, he could understand the pain. You didn't need abilities to harm those you held close, just bad choices. He was more guilty than her.

"You lost the professor and I Scott but it shouldn't be like that," she said as she begun to pace.

"Then I remembered, some of the last thoughts the professor had before...before he died," she hesitated before speaking that last part.

Erik felt his throat tighten.

Jean turned to look at him, her eyes finding his, "He loved you, so much, even after everything."

His breath hitched. His heart skipped a beat. The all familiar pain returned. He had held on to hope that Charles has still held some affection for him, deep inside his heart. After all Charles could not hate someone that he had once loved, not entirely at least. So he had hoped and that hope was a bitter one but it was preferable than having none at all. There was a tremendous difference between thinking it possible and wishing for it and have someone confirm it. It felt like ripping a bandage from an open wound and exposing it to the cold air; excruciating.

"Stop it Jean," he ordered.

"Even after all the destruction you had caused and the harm, he still loved you," she continued, seemingly not hearing him.

Each of her words cut deep. Tears he didn't knew he had welled up in his eyes and spilled. Leaving their trace all along his cheeks.

"Stop!" he commanded, but it came out more like a plea.

But she continued undisturbed, "His last thoughts were of you. Of the time you had-"

"Please stop!" he yelled, finally gaining her attention and her silence.

"Why are you doing this?" Erik asked as he wiped his tears.

Jean smiled. It was a bitter smile.

"I know you cared for him too. I was around in the good days, remember? Before all this," she motioned to the darkness around them.

"All this power I have, there should be something good that it can do. Something more than just destruction," she took a breath, "When the professor died, his consciousness remained behind and when I died he sought out my own. He did it to impart a wish, he wanted me to help you."

Erik simply listened; not knowing what to say or how to say it.

"He granted me the remnants of his power in order for me to enable you to try and fix what you could. I think he was hoping to change the past," she shook her head in regret.

"Is this the past then?" the metalbender asked, perplexed and not knowing what to believe.

All this sounded impossible, at least until he contemplated that this was the work of the two most powerful mutants that had existed. If anyone could have done this, it would have been Charles Xavier and Jean Gray. He refused to call her Phoenix, for everything that was associated with that name. This was Jean, almost like he had known her, only the aura that surrounded her gave any indication to her other personality, to that destructive force.

"This is not the past," her voice was gentle as she spoke, "this is an alternate reality."

Erik's brows furrowed, "Alternate reality?"

"It is believed that some choices, big or small have a specific significance for the world, when the time comes for such a choice to be made, two or more paths form, each following the different options and to a different results," Jean explained.

The metalbender nodded, "Yes, I am familiar with the concept. But why do you think this is an alternate reality."

She resumed her pacing before starting to elaborate, "Bending time was not possible. So I took the next best course of action. Instead of sending you backwards in time, which would require an amount of energy I didn't have at my disposal, I pushed you sideways, into a similar world."

Erik gave another curt nod, "So this is a world where-"

"Most things are the same, yes," Jean confirmed.

The metalbender looked at her quizzically, "What is different?"

"Today, on the beach you saw, Charles was meant to lose his ability to walk," she replied, her expression neutral.

"What? How?" Erik almost choked on air upon hearing those words come out of her mouth. This was not how he remembered things happening.

"From a bullet you deflected," Jean locked eyes with him as she offered that piece of information. She saw the perplexed expression on his face turn into realization.

"But-"

"Yes this was not the way it happened in our world and now it won't happen to this world either. You were wounded instead," she finished his thought for him.

"So that was real?" Erik asked, lowering his head and brought his right hand to his chin, indicating that he was analyzing what he had just heard. He avoided the train of thought that started with him being the reason Charles ended up in a wheelchair.

Jean made a soft noise of agreement, "Indeed. Very real."

Nodding, Erik looked at her again, "So now what?"

"Now," she moved to stand directly in front of him, "I will help you go back. If you want to and IF you can promise me something."

Of course Erik wanted to go back, to see Charles again. To have a second chance. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain. It really wasn't a choice .

"Good," Jean said and the metalbender realized she was reading him like an open book. She seemed pleased by his decision.

"What do you want Jean?" he asked.

Her brown eyes bore in his, her expression a mix of desperation, want and severity, "I want you to really try this time. Promise me that you will truly try to make things work between the professor and you. After you do that, then I want you to help this word's Jean Gray, using what you know of the future. Help her control her powers. But, if at any point you think this world's me is too unpredictable I want you to kill her; kill me."

"What?"He was taken aback by this request.

"Please Erik, I don't want to go through with this again," she almost pleaded," You know what I did to the man I loved. I killed Scott, Erik!" her eyes were once again filled with tears. Pain was etched on her face.

Erik couldn't help but nod. He understood her too well to deny her this. He would however do anything to avoid taking such action.

Something bothered him though. Why was she putting everything on him?

"You are not coming with me," he realized.

Jean shook her head, "No, after this you are on your own. I am just your guide. I will use the last of my powers to bring you back to life."

Her smile was lighter now. She seemed relieved that he had made her that promise.

"Do I have to do something?" Erik asked, carefully studying her. He wanted to remember her like this, in control and almost peaceful. If everything went according to plan, it would be a long time before she stood in front of him like this.

"No, just remember to breathe," she smiled again, "Oh and Erik, I will be putting up some walls in your mind. You will be able to remember everything but the professor will have to learn the truth from your own lips if you ever decide to share it."

A question popped in the metalbender's mind, "Am I taking the place of this world's Erik?"

"Not exactly," Jean replied, reassuringly, " You are he and he is you, only details differ."

"Okay," he accepted that explanation without further inquiry. He really didn't want to delve too deeply into this.

Jean, came up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders.

_Close your eyes and remember...breathe..._

She whispered into his mind. Her aura crackling with power.

Erik felt heat, radiating from her. Suddenly, every fiber of his being was burning.A fiery whirlwind seemed to pull him closer and closer. His skin burned away and every inch of his body followed, down to his very was so much more than pain, something indescribable.

As his very existence was consumed by fire Erik remembered her advice.

With everything he had he took a breath.

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** ~ End of part 2 ~  
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><p><strong>Review please!I am eagerly awaiting to hear what you thought of this.<strong>


	3. Waking up

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**A/N: **Thank you all for the amazing feedback, it keeps me writing.

**Beta:** MissBubbles

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**oOo part 3 oOo**

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Erik gasped for breath, trying to break through the panic that asphyxia caused. He had felt it before; he knew the intense fear that accompanied the feeling of drowning. He had felt the helplessness before but now he knew how to overcome it. And so he calmed his mind and took another breath and then another. His chest arched upwards, expanding as his lungs filled with oxygen. With each inhalation he felt his muscles relax more and more. Soon he had calmed enough to perceive some of his surroundings even though his eyes were still closed.

He was aware that he was lying down, in a bed that felt too comfortable and soft to be a hospital bed. His entire body felt heavy and a tingling sensation was spreading throughout his limbs. He felt a dull pain in his chest as his lungs expanded and contracted inside his ribcage. His mind was aware but not as sharp as usual. Reluctantly his eyelids fluttered open, his eyes taking in his environment. At first his vision was blurry and the bright light shining through the windows made him blink. It took him several moments to become accustomed to it.

The room was decorated with wooden panels. The windows were wide and the curtains were thick and made of dark red velvet. The bed was carved mahogany, sturdy and comfortable. There was other furniture of a similar style, but what caught his attention was how familiar it all felt. It wasn't his room, of that he was certain. The moments he had spent there were ingrained into his memory so deeply that he could never forget them. No, this wasn't his room, but it certainly felt like a room of the Xavier mansion.

There was an IV hanging beside his bed on his right side. From the signs of irritation, he concluded he must have had it attached for a few days at least. He felt groggy, as if he was still half asleep.

Before he had time to make sense of anything else the door was flung open. And there stood Charles, looking surprised and hopeful and young…so very young.

"Charles," Erik's voice was hoarse. He was hesitant as the man on the opposite side of the room scrutinized him, blue eyes not quite believing what they were seeing. It lasted for only a second, then the telepath's eyes widened and his face lit up. His expression was one of pure joy as he moved to Erik's side. He sat on the bed and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

Erik was caught off guard. He hadn't expected such a reaction. But he relaxed almost immediately into Charles's warmth, breathing in the scent of him. It had been so long since he had wrapped his arms around the man he loved. It felt like heaven. It always did when he had the telepath in his arms. He buried his head in the crease of the other man's shoulder. It was one perfect moment, now he felt like he could breathe again, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. In that moment everything was right with the world.

It was Charles who pulled away first. He seemed hesitant but was smiling broadly and in the light of the sun, Erik could swear he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

"I'm sorry my friend, I got a bit carried away," he said, slightly embarrassed. He looked down, his hands fidgeting with the white sheet. Erik had forgotten that he used to do that when he was nervous. He had always found it endearing.

Despite his radiant expression, Charles looked tired. Now that he was so close, Erik could see worry lines around Charles's mouth and bags under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn't slept for a few days.

"What…?" Erik croaked, his mouth dry and his voice barely getting out.

Charles took a glass of water from the nightstand.

"I'm sorry my friend, I forgot. Here, this should help."The telepath leaned closer, extending it towards him.

Erik sat up. His movement was cut short as he winced, a sharp pain in his lower side spread all across his chest. His breath hitched, mostly from the surprise.

Charles looked anxious, "Are you alright? Did you open your stitches?" He asked, placing the glass back on the table. "Let me see," he pushed Erik back gently and lifted up the simple white T-shirt that covered Erik's torso. Underneath, a large part of his left side was covered with a bandage.

Now Erik remembered. He had been shot. He had been on a beach in Cuba and Moira had shot him when he tried to destroy the Russian and U.S ships with their own missiles

The telepath examined the bandage intently for any sign of blood. Once he was certain that there was none, he pulled the white top down and helped Erik into a sitting position. He handed him the water once more and Erik gulped it down. He hadn't been aware he was so thirsty.

"Better?" Charles asked with a smile, relief radiating from his entire being. His eyes bore into Erik's, as if searching for something.

Erik nodded, giving Charles a smile, "Much."

"I'm so happy you're all right," the telepath said. A crooked smile made its appearance on his lips but only stayed for a second before a more serious expression took its place, "You've been unconscious for a week."

"A week?" That was a surprise. To Erik it seemed only minutes had passed between now and his encounter with Jean. But he wasn't bothered by it really. Everything seemed so surreal and just the fact that Charles was right here was enough to make him careless about everything else.

"Yes. The doctors removed the bullet and stopped the bleeding," the telepath got up and started pacing along the side of the bed. He stopped briefly to look at Erik again, his eyes taking in all of him, as if making sure that he was still there. "But you wouldn't wake up." There was a hint of despair at the memory. "I tried to reach you and I couldn't. There was nothing wrong with you but you wouldn't open your eyes." As Charles spoke, his voice became more intense, an outlet to the strong emotions that were battling inside him. Perhaps realizing this, he paused, taking a deep breath. He brought his hand to his forehead, in a movement that seemed like an attempt to calm his own thoughts. Then he spoke again, "So Hank and I thought to bring you back home. Hoping that maybe then…"

Erik nodded, studying the man in front of him closely. His dreams and memories of Charles, while very close to the real thing, were never actually complete. He hadn't realized that before, but now that he had Charles alive and right in front of him he could see it. Every time he saw his expression shift he marveled at how good it felt to be with him again. He'd thought he had lost any chance of doing this again; of just sitting with him and not fighting or arguing about morals and politics. To just be the two of them, like they had once been. He wondered if the barriers Jean had said she would put in place were the reason Charles couldn't reach him. It wasn't important, but for the distress it seemed to have caused the telepath.

"So we're back at the mansion?" The question seemed to surprise Charles.

"Yes, we're in a room at the first floor."

Silence reigned for a few seconds.

_I thought I lost you. I was terrified that I had._

Erik heard Charles's mental voice for the first time in years. The look on the telepath's face was a testament to the fear and worry he must have felt. It warmed Erik's heart. No one had ever cared so much for him. Not even Mystique. To feel needed, wanted… it had been such a long time. He had to muster all his willpower to not pull Charles in for a kiss. He longed to touch him, to feel the softness of his skin. He wondered if in this world they already were lovers. Judging by the telepath's reaction to their embrace he didn't think so.

_I'__m here Charles. _He whispered into the telepath's mind, looking intently in his eyes, trying to convey that he was not going anywhere.

Charles must have understood, because he seemed to relax slightly. Then he surprised Erik again by reaching out and taking his hand. It wasn't a motion of tenderness so much as an attempt to confirm that Erik was indeed there. Charles was seeking reassurance. His telepathy was always harder to block through touch and if something was an illusion, it would be easier to see through it.

Erik wrapped his hand around the telepath's eagerly, reveling in the feel of skin on skin. It felt like low level electricity running through every neural passageway in his body.

_I have missed you so much!_He confessed, letting his feelings wash over the telepath.

If Charles was surprised by the intensity of Erik's emotions he made no indication. He simply smiled.

_I __have missed you as well my friend._

He had missed those two words: _my friend_. Only Charles could use them in casual dialogue and truly mean them. Only he was so open hearted that he could entertain the possibility that everyone he met might become his friend. To view everything with such optimism was a power Charles possessed that Erik had never understood, nor wanted. Their differences had always been pronounced. Those differences had brought them together, but they had also pulled them apart. Like the opposite sides of the same coin. They had clashed over theories and morality, but it was reality that had stepped in and separated their paths. When they were called to put theory to action and to do what they believed in, it was then that they could no longer ignore those differences. Both believing that they were striving for a better future, they had taken their respective paths. In the end neither of them had actually found it.

For a moment his mind drifted to the world he had left behind. Were they happy there? Had those that survived the war found peace? He doubted it. A brief respite would follow, before the next big clash. He and Charles were no longer around but others would take their place, of that he was certain.

It was an idle thought. That world was no longer his. Now he was here, with Charles by his side. His power as vibrant as ever, answering to his every call. He could feel every piece of metal in the room, from the door handle to each individual part of the clock that hung on the wall. He had missed his ability. For a few horrific days he had thought he'd lost it forever; that yet another part of him had died.

Now, sitting here with Charles's hands in his own, it really felt like he had been given a second chance. He finally felt complete and he was determined not to let anything ruin that.

His silence seemed to unnerve Charles, who made a move to retract his hands. Erik stopped him, tightening his grip. He wasn't ready to let go of that connection yet. Surprise colored Charles's face, his eyes widening slightly. He gave Erik a questioning look.

"I should go and get Hank, he should-" he mumbled uncomfortably, glancing towards the open door.

"Charles, look at me." It was a command, but it was spoken softly and the telepath couldn't help but obey. Erik was no mind reader but he could read people and he knew Charles very well after all these years. Charles couldn't hide his nervousness, especially as he was currently biting his lower lip. He seemed torn, between happiness and anxiety.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just think I should call Hank. He should examine you."

Erik didn't see any need in that. He just wanted this moment to go on a little longer. After that he would be able to deal with the world.

But it was not meant to be. He winced as he saw McCoy's blue form appear in the doorway.

"No need, I'm here," the resident mutant doctor announced as he walked in, a leather bag in his hand. "Nice to see you conscious," he said to Erik, giving him a crooked smile, "It's been a week and we were worried."

Resisting the urge to snort, Erik simply replied in an even tone: "Yes, I've gathered as much." He couldn't stop the hint of irony that colored his voice.

"How did you…?" Charles asked McCoy, looking a little puzzled. However, he must have read McCoy's mind as his confusion cleared almost instantly, "Oh, Raven told you!"

"Yes, she heard you rush down the stairs and guessed that something must have happened and so she came to find me," McCoy confirmed as he set down his bag and opened it, "She seemed surprised that you hadn't called me already."

Erik saw Charles purse his lips before asking, "And where is my lovely sister?"

"Oh," McCoy shrugged as he begun to arrange medical instruments on the bedside table, "We ran into Riptide when we were coming here from the lab and he told us that Alex had managed to set the patio on fire so…"

"Oh dear," Charles looked at McCoy quizzically, "I thought his control was improving."

"It was," McCoy confirmed. He paused, before sighing, "It appears that a bet with Sean was to blame."

"I see…" Charles's voice trailed off, sounding slightly amused by the antics of the younger mutants, "Well, let's hope that no one was hurt."

"No one was, but I don't know the condition that Alex will be in when Raven gets her hands on him," McCoy commented, the hint of a smile on his face told Erik that he was amused at the prospect. Erik could agree with him on that, it would certainly be entertaining. He had known Mystique for many years, so he was aware of the pains Alex was likely to suffer.

The mention of Riptide surprised him. This implication troubled Erik. It wasn't something that had happened before. It was obvious that things in this world were different, or at least they were changing and Erik felt that he should be careful if he wanted to preserve some aspects of the future.

"Now let's see," McCoy spoke, eyeing Erik carefully.

"I've checked the wound. It hasn't reopened," Charles hastened to inform.

"Good," McCoy McCoy reached for a small flashlight. "Now let's see…" Much to Erik's annoyance, he shone the light directly into his eyes.

Erik endured as McCoy diligently checked Erik's breath sounds and reflexes, before taking a vial of blood to analyze. Once he was content he turned to Charles.

"Everything seems normal." McCoy declared, looking pleased and giving the telepath a smile, before noticing the perplexed expression on Charles's face.

"I couldn't hear him," Charles said, almost mumbling to himself. The telepath looked thoughtful. Meeting McCoy's eye he continued, "There are still moments when I loose connection with him. As if he's wearing…"

Charles's voice trailed away but McCoy nodded in understanding. It took Erik a moment to realize that they meant his helmet. Erik had a viable theory about why it was happening. It was possible that what Jean had done clouded all his memories of the future. So when Erik's mind got lost in reminiscing, the walls she had built would protect his mind from eavesdroppers; effectively making it invisible to all telepaths. Because if Charles couldn't read him, it was a safe bet that no one else could.

Hank seemed concerned by the development, his expression thoughtful as he turned to Erik. Being under McCoy's scrutiny felt uncomfortable. The fierce look of the perplexed scientist always put Erik on alert, even though in this case he knew that McCoy didn't intend to him harm.

"I don't know what that may mean, I'll have to do a little research," McCoy finally admitted as he tucked his instruments away neatly.

"Do I need this?" Erik motioned to the IV still attached to his hand. He found it irritating and was feeling a strong urge to rip it out.

Luckily he didn't have to, as McCoy shook his head and proceeded to remove the needle from Erik's hand. He was careful and precise and no more than a few seconds later, Erik's hand was free.

McCoy turned to Charles who was observing them silently. "I'll get the blood analyzed and figure out what to do next," his tone was reassuring, "But as far as I can tell he's perfectly healthy; healing faster than expected actually."

Charles nodded, patting McCoy on the shoulder, "Thank you, Hank."

"It's good to have you back," McCoy said and it took a moment for Erik to realize he was talking to him.

"It is good to be back," he replied, with a slightly predatory smile.

And he means it. This unexpected opportunity, given to him by two extraordinary people is something he would never have imagined. He feels the responsibility that they have imparted to him: to make something better out of his life. And he intends to.

Starting right here; with Charles.

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**oOo End part 3 oOo**

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><p><em>Review and tell me what you think.<em>


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